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The Plight of the Improperly Discarded Candy Bar Wrapper

I flutter and flip,
twist and spiral
through misty air and summer breeze;
stealthy and sly
as I dart amidst
the steady stream of traffic.
I lay on the grass--
furtive, covert--
evading the hands
of the diligent workers.
Their intentions are clear:
To destroy my kind
To eradicate me from their city.
I strive to remain concealed in the grass
til the wind catches my flimsy frame
and I return, writhing, to the air.




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